The Great Casserole Caper
by Mootycakes
Summary: Someone is burglarizing Kyle and Cartman's apartment, hilarious ensues. Rated for language. Yaoi! Kyman!


**Warnings: Language and yaoi.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.**

**(Cartman's POV) The guys are supposed to be in their 20's here.**

**The Great Casserole Caper**

**by Mootycakes**

As I come to, I realize that I'm being shaken awake by my Jew. I rub my face and run my right hand through my hair, glaring at him for waking me up. "What the fuck is going on?" I ask gruffly. He knows I fucking hate being woken up, especially like this. He doesn't immediately answer so I take a good look at him. The moonlight coming in from our bedroom window illuminates the frightened look on his face. I frown. I haven't seen him this scared in years. "What's wrong, Jew?" I ask again.

Kyle shivers and shifts even closer to me, holding my left bicep so tightly in both his hands I can feel the circulation being cut off. He leans his face towards my ear and whispers. "I heard something out there. I don't think we're alone," he gulps.

I roll my eyes at him and pull him into my lap, kissing his forehead. "Don't be fucking ridiculous," I laughed at him. "You must have had some faggy nightmare."

He smacked my chest and glared. "You're the one that gets the nightmares, asshole!" He cried. "It wasn't a fucking dream. I heard a crash. There's probably a burglar out there taking all our stuff! What if they come in here? What if they have a gun?" He's really starting to sound hysterical. "I really don't want to die like this!"

I roll my eyes again. "Stop being so fucking melodramatic, homo," I muttered. "We're alone." I apparently have to eat my words. As soon as they have left my mouth we both hear something fall over from somewhere in the apartment.

"See asshole? I wasn't fucking dreaming!" He whispered loudly, hitting my chest a few times for emphasis.

I put one of my hands across his mouth to shut him up. "Relax, Kyle," I said calmly. I got out of bed and threw on a pair of pajama pants, throwing my Jew a pair of his own. I chuckled as he struggled to pull them up while still in bed. Fucking ridiculous. I opened the drawer of my end table and pulled out my trusty Glock 17, handing it to my boyfriend. "Take this. It's loaded with one in the pipe. You remember how to use it?" I asked him.

He visibly gulped before nodding yes. "You know how much I hate these things," he whispered.

"I know," I muttered. "Get over it. I'm going out there to see what the fuck is going on and I want you to use that if anything happens to me. Just stay here and protect your fine piece of ass." I winked at him. Getting him riled up always helps him when he's upset.

"Fuck you!" He whispered, still trying to keep his voice down. "And please be careful."

I grinned at him before digging through our closet and pulling out my AR-15 along with a few spare magazines, tucking them into the waistband of my pants. "Don't worry, Kyle. I'm always careful. Now get on the floor and sit somewhere you can't be seen from the doorway," I commanded. He didn't fight me, even though he really hates it when I order him around. "I'll be right back. I promise," I told Kyle before shouldering my rifle and moving to the door.

I slowly opened our bedroom door to peek out into the hallway of our small apartment. The bathroom door across the hall was still closed so I looked to my left. I can hear something. Sounds like someone is going through the cabinets in our kitchen. Well, whoever the fuck is out there picked the worst house to steal food from. I may not be fat anymore, but I do not like people touching my food.

I gripped my AR tightly and slowly moved forward, in the direction of the kitchen. I haven't had the chance to kill anyone with it yet. I smirk. This might be enjoyable. The guest room and closet doors are both still shut so I move along. When I reach the end of the hall, I back against the wall, facing away from the kitchen so I can look into the living room. Our front door is unlocked, but closed with no signs of forced entry. Odd. I notice the coat rack knocked over along with a bunch Kyle's shit that he's always leaving on the table next to the door. That must have been what woke him up.

I briefly scan the rest of the room. Nothing else seems to be out of place. Our television and gaming systems are all untouched. The dining table and everything on it are still there. Seems like they went straight to the fucking kitchen. This is the weirdest robbery I've ever been witness to. Then again, weirder shit has happened in this fucking town. This might actually even be considered normal.

I leaned to the right so I could see around the corner. The refrigerator is cracked open and leaving a bright glow across half of the room. I hear a bunch of tin cans fall to the linoleum tile and look down. I see a black hooded figure crouched down, digging inside the cupboards. I can't get a good view of them with the island counter in the way. He goes to move to the cabinet to his left. I can hear him muttering something to himself, but I can't tell what he's saying. His voice sounds very familiar though.

I smirked. Now for the fun part. I step out of the hall, into the kitchen, and point my rifle at the intruder's torso. "Move again and you're fucking dead," I threatened. He obviously didn't get the idea. The asshole yelped and fell on his ass, giving me a good view of his face. Stan? What the fuck? "Give me one good reason not to spill your blood all over my floor," I demanded.

"Fuck! Please don't kill me!" Stan cried while staring at me with a deer caught in the headlights look. I briefly wonder how pissed Kyle would be if I did shoot him.

I glared at him and waited for him to continue. He starts hyperventilating and then vomits into his lap before passing out. Great. Fucking faggot. I looked up to see the clock on the microwave, '00:43'. He had better have a really good reason for breaking in here this late. I sighed and turned on the lights before walking back down the hall.

I see Kyle sticking his head out of the doorway. "I thought I told you to hide," I say.

He rolls his eyes and looks behind me. "Whatever," he says softly. "What's going on?"

"Your super best friend is the big scary burglar you're so afraid of," I mock him.

He gives me a nasty look. Fucking Jews. "Stan?" he asked, shocked. "What's he doing here?"

I sigh and push past him to go into the bedroom. "We didn't exactly get that far. He puked and fainted. I'm pretty sure he might have pissed himself, too," I laugh. It was pretty hilarious. He's still such a little bitch. Kyle thrusts my Glock into my hand and runs out of the room. I roll my eyes. If I didn't know how much I meant to the little Jew I would guess that he had a thing for the hippie.

I frowned as I put my firearms away. He didn't need to be so concerned for that prick's well-being. I didn't do anything to him. Fuck it. I stomped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where I see my boyfriend holding that fucking asshole. "What the fuck are you doing?" I demand.

"God, Cartman! Don't be such a fucking dick. You scared the shit out of him!" Kyle exclaims and gives me a nasty look. "If you aren't going to help, then get out of here."

"Fine!" I yell back at him. "Fuck you!" I stormed back into the bedroom and slammed the door. Fuck. I didn't want to blow up like that; I just hate seeing him with that asshole. I frown before crawling back into bed. He should make this up to me. I bet I could guilt him into giving me head. I chuckle and get myself comfortable, putting my arms behind my head and relaxing.

I sigh and try to listen to their conversation. I shouldn't have slammed the door. I can still hear them talking, but their voices are too muffled for me to discern what they're saying. I hear stuff banging. I guess Kyle decided to clean up the kitchen tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow morning. Damn neat freak. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I hear him banging the cabinet doors closed. He's probably pissed at me now. He should know better by now than to expect me to help that fucking hippie out.

I turn my head to look out the window and try to focus on what's going on in our living room. I can tell they've moved into there and are still talking about something. Fuck. One of them is crying. I don't want to deal with this shit tonight. I look over to our alarm clock. It's after one now. Fuck it all. I'm not going to wait around for him. I roll over and grab Kyle's pillow, curling up around it, before letting myself drift off to sleep again. I'll just deal with it in the morning.

I'm startled awake when the door to our bedroom slams open and the light is suddenly turned on. I sat up quickly and stare at the doorway, it's just Kyle. I roll my eyes and sigh at him. "Was that really necessary, Jewrat?" I ask him.

"Is anything you do ever necessary, Cartman?" He glares at me before moving over to our closet and digging through the drawers at the bottom. Damn, I guess he's mad. He can get over it.

I stare at his back. "What are you doing?" I pry. "Did the hippie leave yet? Come back to bed."

"I'm sleeping on the couch," Kyle tells me. He turns around and scowls at me. "I'm tired of you treating my best friend like shit. Wendy has been instigating fights over the simplest things. She told him to get the casserole dish she let me borrow back by tomorrow morning or she was going to run off. He needed my help and I wasn't going to abandon him. You'd do the same for Kenny. I don't treat him like you treat Stan."

He opens his mouth to continue his lecture, but I interrupt him. "Have you ever considered how I feel about it?" He gives me a surprised look; if anyone would know I'm not heartless it should be him. "I'm tired of you running off to help him whenever he comes crawling to you. He'll never do the same for you. He's a shitty fucking friend. I'm always there for you. You just take me for granted. I'm surprised you haven't run off with that fucking hippie. You really make it seem like you'd rather be with him than me. And, you know what, Kenny never was my best friend so I don't give two fucks about how you treat him. You're my best friend now, and I thought we'd reached the point where you felt the same, but apparently not."

I laid back down and rolled over so he couldn't see my face. I should have just held that in. Fucking weak emotions. I frown when the light turns off and our door shuts. I take a shuddering breath. I'm never opening up to that asshole again. I jump and turn around when I feel the bed dip down with added weight. Sneaky fucking Jewrat! I didn't hear him cross the room. "What?" I ask him, harshly.

He tenses and looks at me guiltily. "I'm sorry," Kyle tells me before crawling closer to sit right next to me. "You're right about Stan; I know I give him too many chances when he's always flaking out on me." He shakes his head and looks down before continuing. "I just hate thinking about it. I wish things were back to they were when we were kids. It was so much simpler then."

"I'd fucking hate that," I say bluntly. I pull Kyle close and hold onto him, letting go of any residual anger I felt. "I don't want to go back to when we were fighting all the time instead of fucking."

"You're such an ass!" He yells at me, slapping my arm a few times in the process. He sighs heavily and continues. "I suppose that's one of the things I like about you though, and you are always here when I need you. I made Stan give back the spare key I had given him. He wasn't too happy about that. He thinks you're controlling me. I called him a hypocrite and kicked him out."

I felt my mouth drop open. That's unexpected, but it explains why he was so pissy when he came back in here. I smirk and tilt his face towards mine and kiss him. He groans into my mouth and pulls himself completely into my lap. I wrap my arms around him and break our kiss. I trail my lips along his jawline and up to his ear. "It's good to know where your loyalties lie, Jew," I whisper, flipping us over so he was lying on his back, before continuing my ministrations. This could end up being a good night after all.

**Author's Note: I got the idea for this story a few nights ago. I don't have a whole lot of practice working with Cartman's POV, but hopefully I made him believable enough. Let me know what you think! Reviews are absolutely amazing! Thanks for reading! **


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